Victoria Park

We choose to lie idle under the cherry blossom
where pink petals act as our canopy, shelter.
We choose to be far from the other patrons;
the park fills quickly when the sun pleases, reigns.
Parents and children play rounders for hours,
eager dads relive their lost youth, their wives sigh.
Disposable barbeques plume smoke, charcoal burns
as pork and beef cooks, baps are buttered in advance.
A group of boys ping a leather ball at one another,
their shirts/jumpers become white wooden goalposts.
A gang of girls bathe under the blue sky listening
to the birds, bass blares out their plastic phones.
Various breeds of dog pound the fertile field,
they dart for the well-endowed wood pigeons.
I sit up and watch a bee stumble through the air,
pissed on delicious nectar, I empathise its plight.
I notice your open mouth, a string of dribble
sparkles on your chin, I wonder what you dream.
Outside the shade of the tree I go to marvel
at the idyll, the temporal state of emotion. Clouds
meander above the summit of a huge hill
on the horizon. I fear a brutal flood is overdue.
I guarantee we won’t see it coming, we’ll all be too busy
hoarding this palpable heat, I’ll be observing, you’ll be asleep.

Aaron Lembo

If you have any comments on this poem, Aaron Lembo would be pleased to hear from you.